“Did you have something to do with this?” the king asked the man, waving carelessly in Olive’s direction.

The man bowed his head and closed his eyes demurely, but the faint smile did not vanish.  He replied, but Olive could not understand his words.  The king’s expression darkened.

“Very well then,” he said brusquely.  “If you are so intrigued by the outsider, you may take responsibility for her.  I will expect her oath of obedience when I next hold court.  See she is willing to give it.”

Olive opened her mouth to protest.  What oath of obedience?  Like hell she’d do such a thing.  But before she could speak, the man desperately caught her eyes and hastily shook his head.  His smug, disdainful confidence was gone, replaced by panic.  While he did not speak, his eyes told her everything he wanted to convey.  This was not the time.  She had to stay silent if she valued her life.

So Olive said nothing and stepped aside, giving another awkward bow as the king and his retinue passed by.  She watched them go until they exited the hallway and then she rounded on her new guardian.  The person that had gotten her into this mess.

He held out a hand to her.  He wore no rings, Olive noted.  She was starting to understand that jewelry meant something in this world.  The king had worn many rings and even Tiyrus had a few simple silver bands.  Tentatively, Olive placed her hand in his.  There was no sense in getting mad at him just this moment.  He couldn’t understand her or give her the answers she wanted so long as they weren’t able to communicate.

His fingers closed over hers.  His grip was firm, almost tight.  He tugged, insistently, and she reluctantly followed him.  He walked quickly, not allowing her much time to look around.  There was too much to take in, for that matter.  She quickly caught on to the fact that there were two sections of the castle.  The exterior, which was newer construction.  And the interior, which must have been the original building.  The architecture of the interior seemed starkly out of place in comparison to the decorations.  It was clearly old, but instead of being remodeled it’d merely been added to.  In fact, they’d taken care to preserve old structures and any additions appeared to be for comfort rather than conceal the building’s age.  

If she hadn’t come here under such distressing circumstances, she would have appreciated the opportunity to learn about this place more.  As it were, all she could think about was how she needed to get home.  What would her parents think, when they didn’t find a body in the wreckage of her car?  Tears stung at the corner of her eyes and she resolutely shoved such thoughts aside.  She had to focus on what was happening now.

They met a handful of other people in the hallways.  Some were servants and these all behaved the same way.  A polite, subtle bow, and quickly moving out of their path.  The others, the nobility, gave them a much colder reception.  They, too, moved aside, but their bows were curt, begrudgingly given, and hostile eyes lingered on their backs long after Olive and the man were past.

Was it because of the man?  Or because of how she was dressed as a foreigner?  Probably both, Olive thought bitterly.  It would be just her luck.

Eventually the man stopped in front of a door in the side of a long hallway.  He knocked and after a moment, a voice from within called that he could enter.  Olive was surprised to understand the words and then realized that the voice belonged to Tiyrus.  She couldn’t help but feel relief.  Perhaps he could explain what was happening.

The man pulled her inside behind her and let go of her hand.  They were in a living room, she thought, with couches and a low table.  Tall windows lined the opposite wall, but the heavy velvet drapes were drawn shut.  She felt disappointed.  She’d wanted to see outside.  A desk sat in front of the windows and Tiyrus was seated there, staring at the pair with his back straight and his shoulders squared back.  There was another door in the room, but it was shut.  The room was brightly lit by candles set in the walls that burned far brighter than candlelight should.  Must be magic.  

There were quite a few personal effects scattered around the room.  Some chairs and benches lined the walls, carved from wood and lacking any padding.  They were heavily carved, but in a more severe style than the other furniture, with straight lines instead of the organic vinework she’d seen elsewhere.  There were no paintings or tapestries on the walls, instead, furs from a variety of animals hung throughout.  Antlers, claws, and fangs finished out the macabre assortment.

This was not what she expected his office to look like, she thought.  It was a stark contrast from his elegant appearance.

“Prince Cariun,” Tiyrus said evenly. “What did you do?”

He nonchalantly walked into the middle of the room and threw himself onto the sofa. Despite his relaxed posture and the smile on his face, his eyes were cold and hard. Tiryus was looking at him in naked distaste. The two clearly didn’t like each other. Olive shifted uncomfortably. Part of her regretted leaving her room. Only a tiny part. The rest of her blazed with indignation at being treated so carelessly by everyone in this world.

At least now she knew who this person was, though. A prince. A prince that was clearly disliked by his father… and everyone else in the castle, it seemed. 

The prince said a few words and then gestured at Olive. Tiyrus sighed and stood, walking out from behind his desk and towards her. He removed one of his rings as he did and handed it to her.  She put it on.  It was sized for a man and so the only finger it would fit on was her thumb.

“There,” Tiyrus said gently.  “You can borrow it until you have your own.  It will allow you to speak all languages.  Be very careful with it.  They are only permitted to a few.”

“Thank you,” she said, rubbing a finger along the plain silver band.  

It looked so ordinary.  Hardly fitting for a magic ring, she thought.  But at least now she felt a little bit less lost and helpless.  She could communicate.

She rounded on Cariun.  His smile quickly vanished at the look of fury on her face.

“I want answers,” she demanded.

“Yes,” Tiyrus added dryly, also staring at Cariun, “I think answers are very much due to us both.”